I found out from Facebook that Coach Rick Heim had pancreatic cancer, the deadliest type of cancer in which only six percent of those diagnosed survive the first five years after detection. This hit home for me because of all of the teachers at Sacred Heart, Rick was the most like me. We had been co-workers since we were both hired in 1991 so I spent my whole career at SHA with him on the faculty. Further, we were about the same age, ran cross country for Coach Rostel at Trinity High School, and we were both gym rats. We had the same quirky sense of humor in the classroom. Our daughters went to Sacred Heart and he lamented to me at one time that he didn’t get to see his daughter nearly as often as he would like. I told him that “I know exactly how you feel.” Finally, when I first started at SHA, a group of guys would go out on Friday afternoons for a beer and Rick was one of the regulars. We even went to the Derby infield together. It was our salad days and I miss the camaraderie that I felt with the male members of the faculty that we shared together thirty years ago.
I am surprised at how Rick’s diagnosis had affected me and was truly sorry that he died of pancreatic cancer. He was a true legend because he was still teaching when diagnosed and he had just finished his 33rd year as the cross country coach where he won seven state championships. Rick richly deserves his legendary status. I had been reading the posts on Facebook by our former students and the accolades kept pouring in. The most common sentiments was, “There are few people who have made a bigger impact on my life,” and “You have got this and we are all here for you,” and “Go out there and kick cancer’s butt. You have a lot of people on the sidelines cheering for you.”There are a lot of stories that I could share about Rick but my favorite involves the pandemic. At first, all of the kids were online, and then we had half of the kids at home and the other half in school. However, the kids could not be within six feet of each other so they were forced to eat their lunch outside while sitting on the ground. Rick and I shared lunchroom duty together and the girls were expected to put their bottles and paper plates into a garbage bag. They were slow in doing it so the principal asked us to carry around a garbage bag and walk to each girl and asked them to deposit their trash into the bag. My thought was that “I have a master’s degree and have been teaching for thirty years and I am not going to be a garbage man.” Then I saw Rick, happily going from girl to girl, collecting their trash and joking with them. He humbled me that day by setting an example of what a good teacher should do, and that was to pitch in and do whatever was necessary to help the cause. It is a lesson that I never forgot and I had a new attitude about collecting the trash.
A life-long friend of Rick’s, whom I see at the gym every week, told me about how when he was in his 20s Rick had been in a terrible car accident and was in a coma for two months. Rick carried some physical reminders of that accident with him until he passed. Two of his siblings died years ago and he just put his mother into a nursing home over the summer. Now Rick will never get to see his daughter get married or know the joy of having grandchildren. He will not know retirement and the pleasures of slowing down. His death by cancer reminds me that Tracey and I did the right thing when we quit our jobs when we were in our late 50s, bought a small condo, and have traveled the world. These are the best days of our lives and I deeply regret that Rick will not get the same reward for all of his years of service as a father, coach, and teacher.
